


Cut it loose

by sarahofcroydon



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Gen, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme, Reflection, post GS4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:58:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahofcroydon/pseuds/sarahofcroydon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in response to a kink meme request for Klavier with short hair. </p><p>Klavier isn't coping too well in the aftermath of GS4. Apollo frees him from some guilt, and some hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut it loose

When Apollo arrived at Prosecutor Klavier Gavin’s office, it looked like the site of a break-in.

CDs were strewn over the floor, posters torn from the walls and half-filled cardboard boxes scattered among the mess. Apollo had brought out his phone in an immediate impulse to call the police, but he stilled his hand as the man he had come to see appeared out from behind a desk with an armful of brochures, which he dumped unceremoniously into a box.

Klaveir Gavin looked like a mess.

His eyes were puffy and tired, his hair was loose from his customarily straight ponytail. His favourite purple jacket was missing from the ensemble, and his black shirtsleeves were rolled up past his elbows. He was sweating, and he drew a hand over his brow when he noticed Apollo, mouth curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Justice,” He said in greeting, clapping dust from his hands. “I’m a bit busy, as you can see.”

Apollo could tell from his mannerisms that the man was upset. Klavier’s eyes were a little strained and a little wild, and the mess of the room was in complete opposition to the cool, composed personality he saw in court. Apollo couldn’t blame him, only days ago had they wrapped up the most shocking, challenging and emotionally draining trial of his short career. Feeling a pang of sadness in his chest, Apollo realized that coming to terms with Kristoph Gavin’s complete betrayal would be a lot harder for a brother than for an ex-apprentice. His hands fell awkwardly to his sides and he stepped cautiously into the room.

“I… can see you’re busy. I just wanted to come by and see how you… I wanted to thank you for helping me in court. I couldn’t have done it… we couldn’t have done it alone.”

Klavier stared at him, clutching a handful of his own CDs. Then he laughed, more of a bark than a laugh, and threw the CDs in a box.

“Are you saying you owe me a favour?”

Apollo swallowed. “No, not necessarily, I mean, I came just to…”

“Actually, there is something you can do for me,” Klavier cut him off brusquely, turning his back and disappearing behind his desk once more. His disembodied voice rang loudly across the room, along with the sounds of crashing boxes and ripping tissue paper.

“I’m clearing a few things out, Forehead,” Klavier called, sounding strained in his attempt at civility. Apollo wished for a way to reach him, to encourage him to calm, but he felt that any intervention would break the thin mask of normality that Klavier was attempting to wear.

“You know, you must have heard, we’ve disbanded, the Gavinners. Not a lot of point in keeping the band together. And also, I have no family anymore, thankyou, so I want to make a new start. Clear out all of this junk, sitting here collecting dust.”

Apollo listened to the erratic commentary, neglecting to mention that half of the publications Klavier was throwing out – Gavinners CDs, posters, merchandise- were items the group had only released in the past few months.

“So yeah…” The voice continued, “a new start. A new me. I want to break out on my own again, turn a new flower, or a leaf or whatever you English say. And that’s why I need you, Justice. Ah, found it.”

Finally reappearing from behind his desk, Klavier straightened, holding a pair of scissors in one hand, and clutching his long, blond ponytail in the other. Looking Apollo in the eye, he spoke firmly.

“Cut it off.”

“What?!” Apollo started involuntarily, his heart thumping hard against his ribs. What in the… he hoped this wasn’t the beginning of a nervous breakdown for the man.

“I told you, Justice, cut it off. I can’t do it myself. Or maybe I can…”

“No, no no no!” Apollo darted forwards as Klavier lifted the scissors to his thick, blond curls. Oh god, were all rocks stars so… so unstable? He was strangely reminded of a famous pop princess who had once shaved off all of her hair in a fit of rage… what was her name again, Britney… Britney Steers…

 

“Justice,” Klavier’s voice sounded strained, his façade of control finally cracking. It was a sad, almost pathetic vision that met Apollo’s eyes, of the handsome man clutching a pair of scissors, the scattered debris of his career pooled around his feet. When he spoke again it was quiet and pleading, rough as he met Apollo’s eyes.

“Apollo. Please. Just… do this for me. Please.”

Apollo was quiet as he gazed back, recognizing the awful shadow of desperation that was cast across the young singer’s face. Nodding silently, he picked his way through the minor disaster spread across the floor, making his way to Klavier’s side to accept the scissors. With Apollo’s silent agreement, Klavier broke their gaze and turned his head away, sitting himself on a box and shoving his hands into his pockets. Dealing with other people’s upset and pain wasn’t one of Apollo’s fortes, and he hesitated, glancing around to see if there was anything other than Klavier’s handsome pair of paper scissors he could use. He pulled his own travel comb from his pocket and wet it with the aid of a bottle of water from Klavier’s desk before stepping up behind him and nervously putting his hands to Klavier’s hair.

 

“Please, it’s ok. You can relax a little bit,” He said, feeling the tension emanating from Klavier’s body as if it were heat. Klavier was sitting unnaturally straight, it was as if he couldn’t wait to excuse himself from the chair and Apollo’s close proximity.

It was only when Apollo began to card the comb slowly through the long strands of hair that Klavier’s shoulders slumped a little. His hair was a beautiful colour, Apollo mused to himself, twining his fingers through the locks as he combed to untangle the strands. What little moisture he could thread into the hair with the comb made it glisten, the white-blond colour of each strand running from root to tip. Pausing only to add a little more water to his comb, he ran the fine teeth through Klavier’s fringe as well, apologizing quietly when he grazed Klavier’s skin with his knuckles.  
Soon, Apollo became too absorbed in his task to notice Klavier closing his eyes and slouching a little as he relaxed. Hairdressing was actually rather enjoyable, he thought, the rhythmic strokes of his comb feeling pleasant and steadying. It was only when he’d combed out the loose ponytail to a straight, golden curtain falling across Klavier’s back that he began to feel a little intimidated. Klavier’s beautiful hair had to be worth a lot of money, maybe even part of his insurance! Grasping the scissors, Apollo swallowed as he took the twin blades to Klavier’s hair and prepared to cut.

“You’d better not sue me for this if you don’t like it,” He piped up, and Klavier, to his surprise, laughed… not the harsh bark of before but the melodious sound he was accustomed to and enjoyed far more.

“Justice,” Came the reply, “Apollo. Forehead. I’ve never bested you in court and I can’t see that changing any time in the near future. If you defended yourself against me I’m sure I’d be without my hair and without a case.”

Flushing a little at the compliment, Apollo made the first cut with his scissors as they lapsed back into a comfortable silence. Watching the strands spilling onto the dirty floor like golden silk made him feel a strange sense of grief. It was like cutting away the memories, the heavy weight of emotion they had invested in the people and history of the cases that had consumed them. A snip with the scissors, and another lock fell… that was the betrayal of Daryan, Klavier’s trusted bandmate. Another cut, more hair spilling to the floor… they were the deeds and abuse of Kristoph, a man who had spun them all to his will and sinister plot. Apollo’s gaze turned soft and inwards as he cut slowly… the golden strands pooling at his feet were Mr Wright and the false evidence he’d forced Apollo to use, Mr Wright and Trucy, his new sister… his mother, back from the dead… things he could forgive and forget, one day…

“…Apollo.”

 

Klavier’s voice interrupted the journey into his thoughts. Klavier’s posture wasn’t so strained and awkward anymore… he was sitting straight and poised, a little of his old self back in the language of his body.

“… I said that you owed me a favour.”

Apollo didn’t answer, stilling the movement of his scissors. He was nearly finished.

“I want to apologise. For whatever favours you owe me, Apollo, I owe you ten. You don’t know it, but you have helped me, a lot. Since we met, even, at that park.”

“You remember that?” Apollo asked, idly fingering strands of Klavier’s hair.

“There’s a lot I remember,” Klavier replied solemnly, “And for all of your hard work and kind words, I want to thank you.”

Apollo frowned… he wasn’t sure what Klavier was referring to. It didn’t matter so much, though, he could hear what he was trying to say. They had managed to help eachother, in a way, filling in the gaps as they’d navigated the complex trials that had involved the people so dear to them.  
Apollo wanted to deny it, he was hardly a person of the calibre Klavier seemed to think he was. He remained silent, though, resuming his cutting and shaping the back of Klavier’s hair to curl neatly at the nape of his neck. The man before him had certainly given him help at every opportunity, picking up his case whenever it had fallen, showing him police department evidence, offering him a friendly smile in a corridor.  
They complimented eachother, he thought. And they needed eachother, to join forces in overcoming the events of seven years prior that had so affected their lives.

“You’re welcome,” Apollo murmured, curling his fingers through Klavier’s hair to lift it from the scalp and give it life. “Anytime.”

Touching his hand briefly to Klavier’s neck, he stepped backwards and put his comb in his pocket. “I’m done. Do you want a mirror?”

Turning to face him, Klavier offered Apollo a big smile. Strands of his now-short hair were curling around his face as they dried, the absence of the weighty ponytail drawing attention to his face and eyes. It looked good, Apollo thought, not the work of a professional, but it made him look younger, and a little taller.

“How do I look, Justice?”

“You look…” Apollo couldn’t help but swallow. Even with his long hair, he’d always thought Klavier was terribly attractive. But with his short, sweet locks, he looked even better. Roguish, even.

“You look… nice. Very nice.”

Klavier’s grin broadened. “Then no, I don’t need a mirror. I trust you after all.”

Standing, he brushed out the creases in his trousers and clapped a hand over Apollo’s shoulder.

“Let’s get out of this dump and leave this all for another day. Do you feel like a drink?”

A little taken aback, Apollo nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

“Excellent. I know a great little place, we can take my bike. And you know…”  
Klavier raised an eyebrow.  
“Maybe we can discuss your hairstyle.”

In any other circumstance, Apollo would have frowned. Now, though, he couldn’t help but laugh, glad that Klavier had returned to himself. Defending his hairstyle wouldn’t be too bad, he thought, as they left the room of mess and hair and memories together.  
After all, he still had the scissors.


End file.
